


Oblivious

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Blowjobs, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Facials, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oblivious Peter, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14492694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter Parker wouldn't know flirting if it hit him in the face with a shovel.





	1. He Flirts With You

**Author's Note:**

> I'm seeing Infinity War tomorrow and I already know what happens and this is my coping mechanism. Bury yourself in Spideypool fluff with me.

“I honestly don’t know how you put up with him.”

Peter was out of breath and covered in soot, standing in the rubble left over from an epic team-up with Deadpool and the X-Men. Wade had, of course, spent the entire fight doing his level best to distract Peter with bad jokes and sexual innuendos, which Peter was so accustomed to it didn’t even faze him, to Wade’s great disappointment. Now that the bad guys were defeated, Cyclops had approached Peter with a smirk on his face beneath his signature red visor and his arms crossed over his spandex-clad chest.

“You have the patience of a saint,” Scott continued. “And I say that as someone who regularly teaches classrooms full of teenage mutants.”

Peter glanced over his shoulder at Wade, who was currently shooting the shit with Wolverine like they hadn’t just been in a fight to the death with a small but persistent squadron of Sentinels. “He grows on you,” he said fondly. He remembered the days when he used to come home from a team-up with Deadpool fuming, pacing his apartment back and forth and wondering aloud how one man could possibly manage to be so annoying. Wade had a very particular set of skills, and it mostly involved pushing people’s buttons. But now, years later, Peter couldn’t imagine his life without him. Wade really had grown on him. _Like a fungus_ , he thought with a chuckle.

“He must. I can barely stand teaming up with him for a single mission, and that’s with you holding his leash. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be in a relationship with him.”

Peter had already opened his mouth to reply when his brain finished registering what Scott had just said. He was grateful he had his Spider-Man mask to hide his expression, which he would imagine at that moment looked priceless. He gaped at Scott and stammered out a question: “I’m sorry, do you think Deadpool and I are… in a relationship?” Fuck. Was he _blushing_? Yeah. Yeah, he was definitely blushing. Shit.

That was the thing. Peter would _love_ to be in a relationship with Wade. Wade was hilarious, and loyal, and a surprisingly good guy, at least in the ways that mattered. Peter had long ago come to terms with the fact that he was crushing _hard_ on Deadpool, and it was definitely ill-advised, and it would probably only end up getting him in trouble, but he couldn’t do anything about it – he had certainly tried, tried for _years_ to get over Wade, to no avail – so he may as well accept it. But it was definitely concerning if his crush on Wade had become so obvious that even Cyclops, with whom Peter wasn’t particularly close, could tell something was up. Peter made a mental note to be more subtle about his affections in the future.

“You aren’t?” Scott asked, sounding surprised but not particularly invested in the matter.

“No!” Peter denied so vehemently his voice cracked, which he knew only made him sound even more suspicious. His blush deepened until he was sure if Scott were to tear away his mask, his face would be the same shade of red underneath it. He took a breath and tried to find his composure. “I mean, no. We’re just friends.” He paused, bit his lip, and his curiosity got the best of him. “What, uh… what made you think that we were?”

“The constant flirting, I guess.” Scott shrugged, already visibly losing interest in the conversation as he cast his gaze around the street corner they were standing on at his colorfully dressed teammates, the police lights flashing in the distance, the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopters descending on the scene. He sighed audibly, seeming to take in the scope of the destruction surrounding them, the cracked asphalt and scattered robot parts and buildings that looked like they’d been struck by meteorites or punched by God himself.

“I don’t flirt with him!” Peter insisted. He actually made a point _not_ to flirt with Wade, partially because he didn’t want to seem like a lovestruck idiot (which he was), but mostly because he didn’t know the first thing about flirting or how to go about it. It wasn’t his fault; he’d spent his formative teenage years fighting crime instead of learning how to drink and party and form normal human relationships.

“He flirts with you.” And with that, Scott stalked off in the direction of the nearest helicopter, out of which strode an exhausted and exasperated Maria Hill, talking animatedly into an earpiece and glaring at everyone she passed.

A hand on Peter’s shoulder signaled Wade’s presence. “We should probably get out of here before things start to get bureaucratic,” he said. Peter nodded.

“Yeah, let’s leave this to the professionals,” he said, only half-jokingly. He wasn’t very good at the clean-up part of superhero work that came after all the fighting. It was one of the many reasons he wasn’t a part of any superhero teams, preferring to either go solo or help out whenever and wherever he was needed, like a super-strong, super-fast, spider-themed freelancer.

Peter and Wade disappeared into the shadows just as Scott and Maria’s discussion of the situation was escalating into a heated argument, complete with hand gestures and yelling, and they made their way to a street vendor who had no qualms about serving costumed superheroes covered in ash and blood from their last fight. Living in New York, he was probably used to it.

“I kinda feel like doing nothing tonight,” Wade said as they strolled casually down the sidewalk, attracting stares and murmurings from passersby. “Fighting killer robots really takes it out of you, ya know?”

“Tell me about it.” Peter’s shoulders were aching, his leg muscles were sore, and he knew he was only going to feel worse in the morning.

“We should do nothing together,” Wade said, knocking their shoulders together while they walked. “Watch the Food Network on your couch until two in the morning.”

“Isn’t that what you do every day? When you’re not doing hero work,” Peter teased.

“Anti-hero, please,” Wade corrected him. Peter rolled his eyes. Wade elbowed him in the side. “Now’s the part where you say,” he raised his tone a full octave, doing a very poor imitation of Peter’s voice, “‘You’re _my_ hero, Deadpool!’”

Peter snorted. “In your dreams.”

“Trust me, Spidey, the dreams I have about you are a lot more exciting than that.”

Peter nearly tripped over his own two feet at the blatant sexual innuendo, his mind racing back to what Scott had said to him: _He flirts with you._ His heart thudded in his chest as he realized just how right Scott had been. Wade flirted with Peter all the time, and Peter had never noticed it because he thought that was just Wade’s unique sense of humor. But now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t ignore it. And he couldn’t stop Wade’s innocuous comment from going straight to the deepest, dirtiest parts of his imagination. In that moment, Peter could think only one thing.

_I’m fucked._


	2. He Only Has Eyes for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw Infinity War and I'm in mourning. I've been listening to nothing but my Spideypool playlist on repeat. Send help.

Peter woke up feeling like he’d been run over by a truck. It took him a minute to remember why: those fucking Sentinels. He rolled over onto his back and groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching his aching muscles. He lay in bed scrolling through his Twitter feed for about ten minutes before the rumbling in his stomach forced him out of bed and sent him shuffling in the direction of the kitchen. When he reached the living room, however, he paused.

A blanket-covered lump was curled up in the middle of his sofa. Peter approached it cautiously, lifting a corner of the blanket to reveal a sleeping Wade, wearing a borrowed pair of Peter’s sweatpants and nothing else. His Deadpool suit was a red-and-black pile on the floor beside him. He turned his head and blinked his eyes open, squinting into the light Peter had turned on when he’d entered the room.

“You’re still here,” Peter said, puzzled. He and Wade had stayed up late watching the Food Network, just like they’d planned, and then Peter had gone to bed, assuming Wade would see himself home. Apparently not.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Wade said mid-yawn. He sat up, shirtless torso on display for all the world to see. Peter bit his lip. Wade was, like any superhero, incredibly fit. He also had a certain bulk to him that Peter lacked, and the borrowed sweatpants – which were a size too large for Peter – stretched tight over his junk, leaving little to the imagination. Wade had, of course, bragged about the size of certain parts of his body, but now Peter could be fairly certain that these were not empty boasts. The man was… well-endowed. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”

Peter forced himself to make eye contact with Wade, determined not to look down at the rest of him. He perched on the arm of the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly aware that he’d gone to sleep in his boxer shorts and hadn’t put on anything else when he’d woken up. Wade’s gaze kept flicking down to his biceps, his stomach, his legs, and Peter felt exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

“I thought you’d gone home for the night,” Peter said. Wade shrugged.

“Nah,” he said, leaning forward until he was on the edge of Peter’s personal space. “I was too tired. Besides, your couch is plenty comfortable. And this way, I get to see your cute face first thing in the morning.” Wade got up on his knees and ruffled a hand through Peter’s sleep-tousled hair. “You look adorable with your hair like that.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. He knew he had some of the worst bedhead known to man. When left to its own devices, his hair practically defied the laws of gravity. “Like I got struck by one of Thor’s lightning bolts?” he asked.

Wade closed the space between them until they were mere inches apart. Peter could feel Wade’s breath on his face, and for a moment there he wasn’t sure he had it in him not to kiss the man. “Or like you had a really good time last night,” Wade said, voice low and seductive.

 _Peter Parker, I swear to God, you cannot get a boner in your boxer shorts in front of your best friend._ Peter took a deep breath and tried to think of something unsexy. Aunt May in lingerie. He winced at the image. Yeah, that’d do it. Peter stood, now confident in his total lack of arousal, and walked into the kitchen.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked, putting on a casual air and hoping it didn’t come across as too forced. “I have Eggos or Poptarts.”

“Both!” Wade exclaimed, perking up at the mention of food. Peter smiled.

“Both it is.”

* * *

Days passed, during which Peter spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about his conversation with Scott Summers. Wade flirted with him. He knew that now. But he also knew – or at least, he was fairly certain – that people flirted with each other for a lot of different reasons, and he shouldn’t get his hopes up before he knew exactly what Wade’s flirting meant. Some people flirted with everyone they met. Tony Stark, for example. Maybe Wade was like that. It certainly wouldn’t be out of place with the rest of his personality.

After giving the matter far too much thought, Peter decided he needed to get a second opinion. And who better to ask than another of Wade’s closest friends?

Which was how he found himself at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, shut in an empty classroom with Wolverine, about to talk about subjects like _feelings_ and _relationships_ with the least touchy-feely man he’d ever met in his life.

Once he’d gotten a few stilted sentences’ worth of small talk out of the way, Peter jumped straight to the heart of the matter, figuring that if this was going to be awkward regardless of how he approached it, he may as well get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. “Does Wade flirt with you?” he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Logan stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?” he asked gruffly.

“Wade,” Peter repeated, a bit slower this time. “Does he ever flirt with you?” Logan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t call what Wade does ‘flirting,’” he said. “I think ‘getting on my nerves’ would be more accurate.” He paused, squinted at Peter like he was trying to figure him out. “Why? Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” Peter frowned, confused at the turn that had taken. “What would I be nervous about?”

Logan sighed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there. “Listen, kid,” he said, putting on what Peter imagined was his mentor voice, the one he used with the mutant students of Xavier’s school. “I know you’re young, and I know you don’t have the best luck with relationships, but trust me, you don’t have anything to worry about this time. Wade’s only got eyes for you.”

Peter shook his head in surprise and exasperation. Seriously? First Cyclops, and now Wolverine? “You’re the second person to assume Wade and I are in a relationship,” he said.

“You’re not?”

“Do we act like we are?”

“Yeah.”

Oh. Peter paused, taking this in. Sure, he and Wade were close – they’d known each other for years! – but he hadn’t realized they were so close that multiple people would assume they were together. Was it just the flirting? Or was it something else?

Which brought him back to his original point. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“What question?” Logan asked.

“Does Wade flirt with you? I mean, apparently – and this is according to Cyclops—”

“I wouldn’t recommend listening to Scott,” Logan interrupted with a smirk. “I know I never do.”

“He said Wade flirts with me,” Peter continued, determined to see this conversation through to its conclusion. “So I’m wondering, is that just because we’re friends? Does he flirt with all his friends? Or just me? Is it just playful banter? Or does it actually mean something?” Peter cut himself off when he realized he was rambling. Logan shook his head and held out his hands in bewilderment. Yeah, maybe Wolverine hadn’t been the best person to talk to about this.

“I don’t know what to tell ya, kid,” he said. “I think you should probably ask someone who actually knows a thing or two about relationships.” He led Peter to the door, signaling an end to their meeting. “Now, if you ever need someone sliced up…” He extended one of his claws, metal glinting under the mansion’s lighting. “That, I can help you with.”


	3. You Make a Really Good Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is getting a lot more attention than I expected. Thanks, guys! I'm really glad you're all enjoying it.

Peter gave a lot of thought to Wolverine’s suggestion, that he should talk to someone who actually knew a thing or two about relationships. It was a good idea. There was just one problem. Almost all of Peter’s friends were superheroes, and superheroes were notoriously bad at relationships. Everyone Peter knew was either in on-again, off-again relationships, had been with just about every member of their team, had tragically lost the love of their life at the hands of a supervillain, or were pining over someone who was already in a relationship.

He was also more than a little embarrassed to talk about this particular problem he was having, this problem of being completely head-over-heels for Wade. He hadn’t minded talking to Logan about it; everyone and their mother knew about Logan’s unrequited feelings for Jean Grey, so Peter didn’t feel so bad admitting that he, too, was crushing on a fellow hero. (Or anti-hero, as Deadpool preferred.)

But with anyone else, Peter would prefer to keep his feelings to himself. He’d worked hard to earn the respect of the Avengers, the X-Men, and the others he worked with. They’d once treated him like a kid (which, to be fair, he had been, at least at first), just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, instead of their equal. Part of him – the insecure part – was always worried he’d screw something up, make a critical mistake, and things would go back to the way they used to be. So he played things close to the chest when it came to his feelings, and his unfortunate crush on Wade Wilson.

Things came to a head, however, when the Avengers asked for his help busting a Hydra facility by the Harbor. He was standing on a rooftop with Iron Man and Hawkeye – definitely not the people he would want to talk to about relationships, even if he did end up talking to someone – when Tony, in his usual fashion, immediately decided to make things as uncomfortable as they possibly could be.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” he asked, voice distorted by his suit. Peter sighed.

“If you mean Deadpool, first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” he said, “And second of all, he wasn’t invited on this mission.”

“I thought the two of you were a package deal,” Tony continued, ignoring Peter’s first statement. “Or has he finally stopped trailing after you like a lost puppy?”

“I just do what Cap asks me to do,” Peter insisted. “He asked me to provide backup. Well, here I am, providing backup. If he wanted Deadpool to be here too, he could’ve asked him himself, but obviously he didn’t.” Peter didn’t mean to sound too annoyed by Tony’s friendly teasing, but it was forcing him to think about issues he really didn’t want to think about when he needed to focus on preparing to kick some Nazi ass. “Why does everyone think Deadpool and I are together, anyway?” he asked. It couldn’t just be the flirting. Tony, of all people, should understand that flirting didn’t necessarily indicate any sort of commitment.

“It’s just the sort of thing that happens when you team up with another hero,” Clint explained, preempting any additional teasing that might’ve come out of Tony. “Everyone sees you working together, sees your chemistry in the field, and they make assumptions about your chemistry in the bedroom.”

“I can’t tell you how many times people have assumed I’m hooking up with my teammates,” Tony agreed. “I’m lucky Pepper’s smart enough not to believe everything the _National Enquirer_ prints about me. Otherwise, I’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

“Trust me,” Clint continued, “It’s completely normal. All it means is you and Deadpool make a really good team.”

“And he talks about your butt a lot,” Tony interjected. “But that’s on you for wearing bright red spandex.”

Peter nodded. “That makes sense,” he said, more to Clint than Tony, who hadn’t been particularly helpful. He and Deadpool did work well together, and they were friendly with each other, and there was even the whole “flirting” thing on top of it all. No wonder people assumed they were together.

“If you ever do hook up with a teammate, though,” Clint said seriously, “Make sure you end it on good terms. An angry ex is one thing. An angry ex with superpowers…” He shook his head. “Now that’s something you don’t wanna mess with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

The Avengers and Spider-Man were successful at busting Hydra’s New York operation, and they returned to Avengers Headquarters to debrief. Peter sat through the meeting quietly, too busy mulling over what Clint had said to him on that rooftop to contribute anything. When everyone had said their piece and Steve dismissed the group, Natasha turned in her chair to face Peter, her intense gaze seeming to pierce through Peter’s mask. He shifted uncomfortably. It was never a good thing to be the focus of Black Widow’s attention.

“I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she said as her teammates began filing out of the room, “But you’re being unusually quiet today, Spider-Man. What’s up?”

Clint answered before Peter had a chance to formulate his response. “He’s in love,” he said teasingly, grinning at Peter.

“I’m not in love,” Peter insisted.

Natasha frowned and turned to Clint. “I thought you said he was with Deadpool.”

“Apparently they’re still in the ‘will they, won’t they’ phase of their relationship,” Clint explained. Peter rolled his eyes and waved a hand, drawing their attention as they talked about him like he wasn’t in the same room.

“Excuse me?” he said. “I’m right here.”

“Sorry, Spidey,” Clint said, although he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “Seriously, though, you need to make a move already. What’s stopping you?”

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “What makes you think I even want to be in a relationship with Deadpool?” he asked. As soon as he’d said it, he knew it was a mistake. Natasha raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, arms on the table, to stare him down.

“Don’t lie to us, Spider-Man,” she said. “You’re no good at it.”

“And she’d see through you even if you were,” Clint added.

Peter paused, considering his situation, and relented. He didn’t stand a chance against these two. Not in this situation. “Fine,” he said grumpily. “I haven’t made a move because I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“Are you kidding?” Natasha turned to Clint in disbelief. “Tell me he’s kidding.”

“He does,” Clint assured him, and when Peter opened his mouth to question him, he continued, “Deadpool thinks the sun shines out of your ass, okay? He worships the ground you walk on. He’s into you. I promise.”

“Come on, Spider-Man,” Natasha said wryly. “I thought you were supposed to be some sort of genius.”


	4. Everyone Thinks We're Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait and post this tomorrow but you guys have left such lovely comments that I decided you've earned two chapters in one day.

Peter’s Spidey sense alerted him to a presence behind him before the sound of footsteps did. It was night, and he was perched on a rooftop, catching his breath after stopping a bank robbery. When he turned, he saw Wade sauntering across the roof toward him, and he smiled.

“Hey, baby boy!” Wade called out with a wave. The term of endearment never failed to set off sparks inside Peter. “Been looking all over for you. I haven’t heard from you in, like, a week. Thought you might’ve died.”

“No,” Peter said, standing to meet Wade. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Thinking?” Wade repeated, voice laden with disbelief. “For a whole week? Shit.” He shook his head. “No wonder you’re such a genius. I can barely think for five minutes before I get tired of it. Less, when I’ve got your ass around to distract me.”

Peter thought back to what Tony had said before their fight with Hydra, when he and Clint had explained why everyone assumed Spider-Man and Deadpool were a couple. “Wow,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Wade. “You do talk about my butt a lot.”

“Does that bother you?” Wade asked, sounding surprisingly sincere. He could be considerate. Sometimes. When it counted.

“No,” Peter said. He knew he probably should mind, but he didn’t. It was flattering, in a way, the way Wade talked about him. The way he looked at him. “I just never noticed it until now.” He paused, just for a second, before summoning up the courage to say what he’d wanted to say to Wade ever since he’d come home from his team-up with the Avengers. “Hey, did you know everyone thinks we’re dating?”

“Who’s ‘everyone’?”

“Cyclops, Wolverine, all the Avengers,” Peter clarified.

“Don’t know why they’d think that,” Wade said with a shrug. “You’re so out of my league, we’re playing two different sports.”

“Apparently you flirt with me constantly,” Peter told him. “Which I didn’t realize until Cyclops pointed it out to me. But he’s right.”

“Of course I flirt with you. You’re a total catch.” Now it was Wade’s turn to pause. He took a half-step closer to Peter, and when he spoke, he sounded confused. “You didn’t… know that?”

“That you’ve been flirting with me? No!” Peter exclaimed, completely sincere. “So you’ve been doing it on purpose? How long has it been going on?”

“Pretty much as long as we’ve known each other.”

“Really?” God, how oblivious was Peter? Wade had been flirting with him the entire time they’d known each other – for years! – and he hadn’t realized it until Scott had pointed it out? _Who knew being such a nerd in high school would come back to haunt me later in life?_

“Yeah,” Wade said. “I thought you knew. I’m not a subtle guy, you know? I thought you knew and you just put up with it because you’re such a good guy.”

Peter mirrored Wade’s half-step, closing the space between them. “Wade, I’m the most oblivious person on the planet when it comes to relationships,” he said. “I can never be sure someone’s interested until they’re kissing me on the mouth!” It was true, and his dating history proved it. Gwen Stacy had been the one to make the first move in their relationship – Peter never would’ve found the courage to ask her out if she hadn’t prompted him – and he’d been crushing on M.J. for _years_ before that finally happened.

“Huh.” Wade said, uncharacteristically brief. Peter wished he could see Wade’s expression, or better yet, read his mind. _Telepaths have it so easy._ Wade took another step closer, and at the same time lifted his mask halfway off his face, revealing just his nose and mouth but keeping his eyes covered. He then reached out and found the edges of Peter’s mask. Peter’s hands shot up instinctively and caught Wade’s wrists; Wade didn’t make a move to pull away, but he wouldn’t have been able to if he’d tried.

“What are you doing?” Peter demanded.

Wade answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Kissing you on the mouth.”

Peter froze. His brain stopped working. His heart stopped beating. And all he could say was, “Oh.”

“Are you cool with that?” Wade prompted, voice low.

“Yeah.”

Peter released Wade’s wrists, and Wade pulled Peter’s mask up over his nose and mouth, leaned forward, and kissed him.

The second their mouths met, Peter’s heart resumed its beating, and his brain whirred into overdrive. Wade was kissing him. Peter had said he could never be sure someone was interested in him until they kissed him, and then Wade kissed him, which meant… Wade was interested in him. All the flirting, all that tension between them that Peter had been so sure he was making up in his head, it was all real. It had all meant something. And now here they were, standing on a rooftop, kissing. And it was cliché as hell, but it was nothing short of a dream come true.

When Peter’s thoughts finally caught up to the reality of the situation, he realized that he hadn’t actually _done_ anything yet. He was just standing there, with Wade’s mouth pressed against his and Wade’s hands framing his face, but he wasn’t touching Wade or kissing him back and, _Oh, shit, fuck, come on Parker, you know how to kiss people! It hasn’t been_ that _long._

Peter’s hands found Wade’s waist and drew him closer. He savored the feeling of Wade’s body pressed against his, warm and solid, and he opened his mouth and Wade’s tongue slid inside and he melted, knees going weak. He steadied himself with a hand on Wade’s torso and hummed in satisfaction, and Wade reacted by moving his hands from Peter’s face to wrap one arm around his back and one around his waist, holding him tight.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, and the thin layers of their suits left very little to the imagination about their current state of arousal. Wade grinned, and Peter couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“You really had no idea?” Wade asked, incredulous. “This whole time, you thought I just wanted to be _friends_? What is wrong with you?”

Peter laughed. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what's going to happen in the next chapter...


	5. That Was Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter! Huge thanks to everyone who's left comments and kudos along the way. Seriously, I'm blown away by the response I've gotten. I have about a million more ideas for future Spideypool fics (they're all just as fluffy as this one, because that's what I do), so stick around if that interests you, and enjoy the finale!

They stumbled into Peter’s apartment – through the window, of course – clumsy and overeager. Peter was peeling off his skintight blue-and-red spandex and Wade was unzipping his Deadpool suit and when they were both undressed down to their underwear, they barely spared a moment to appreciate each other’s nearly naked forms before they were once again stuck together like magnets.

Peter ran his hands over every inch of Wade’s skin that he could reach, half-convinced that he must be dreaming. Any minute, and he’d wake up alone in his bed with a raging hard-on, no closer to sleeping with Wade than he’d ever been.

But no, this wasn’t a dream; it was all too real for that. The taste of Wade’s mouth on his, the rough texture of his bare skin beneath his hands, that knee between his thighs pressing up against his painfully hard dick. It was everything he’d ever imagined it would be, and so much more. It felt like the crescendo at the end of a song, like he’d just come out victorious after a brutal fight with a ridiculously overpowered supervillain, like this was meant to happen and it had taken far too long for either of them to finally realize and do something about it.

Peter could have gone on like that forever, kissing Wade with a desperation that had built up over far too many years of waiting, rutting against his leg like an animal until he came undone, like a horny virgin teenager on prom night. But Wade, at least, seemed capable of some form of coherent thought, enough to take control of the situation, and he had other plans.

Wade shoved Peter against the wall; his elbow slammed into a doorknob and the pain that shot up his arm was dulled by the endorphins coursing through his nervous system. Wade slipped Peter’s underwear down to his ankles and Peter stepped out of them; his cock sprung free, throbbing and full. He leaned his head back – it hit the wall behind him with a muffled thud – and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as Wade sunk to his knees. Peter had imagined this moment; he knew what was going to happen next, and he was pretty sure it was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Wade’s hands were warm on his thighs, coming torturously close to Peter’s neglected cock but never touching it. He leaned forward and licked Peter’s stomach, tongue tracing the hard lines of his abdominal muscles, teeth biting down just below his belly button. Peter exclaimed sharply at the unexpected sensation, and he felt Wade grinning against his skin. _Smug bastard._ He wondered if Wade wanted him to beg, because he was starting to feel like he might have to.

“Wade, please,” he managed, hoping it would be enough. He looked down and made eye contact with Wade, whose gaze was dark with lust. Wade looked up at him with an expression Peter had never seen on anyone else, a look of complete and total admiration, almost… worship. Peter’s stomach flipped. He didn’t know how to process his current situation, hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility that this would ever happen, and all he could think to do was offer another strangled plea: “I need you.”

A single beat of silence passed between them before Wade’s grip on Peter’s hips tightened and he licked a burning stripe down the length of Peter’s cock. Peter’s eyes squeezed shut of their own accord and he made a sound halfway between moaning and choking, arousal and relief surging through him in equal measure. Another teasing lick across his slit, lapping up the pre-come that dripped out of him, and then Wade took the head of Peter’s cock in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it and Peter felt like fireworks were going off behind his eyelids.

It had been an embarrassingly long time since Peter had been with anyone like this – he’d been too hung up on Wade for too long – and every sensation was amplified by what felt like a tight knot of anticipation that had buried itself in the pit of his stomach and was finally coming unwound. His wildest fantasies couldn’t hold a candle to the warm, wet heat of Wade’s mouth around him, the way Wade held onto him like he was afraid this would be the last time they would ever touch, hands on Peter’s hips gripping so tightly they left indentations where his fingers were. Peter felt a thrill every time he remembered that this wasn’t a fantasy, this was real, it was happening, and it felt so, so good.

It took every ounce of restraint Peter possessed – and he possessed quite a bit of it – to keep his hips from jerking forward as Wade sucked his cock, his body burning in its desire for _more_. His struggle must have shown, because Wade pulled back and asked breathlessly, “You wanna fuck my mouth, baby boy?”

“Yes,” Peter breathed, and Wade pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin that stretched over his pelvis and stroked a hand down his thigh.

“Then do it.”

Peter’s hands found the back of Wade’s head, tentative at first, but then Wade’s eyes fluttered closed and he licked his lips and Peter cursed under his breath and thrust into that perfect mouth. He was careful about it, constantly aware of the impressive strength he possessed and the need to hold most of it back, but it felt unmeasurably good to loosen the reins on his inhibitions like this, if only a little. Wade took him like a champ, hands braced against the wall, swallowing Peter’s cock, humming around it as Peter guided him where he needed him to be, pleasure building inside him. Wade moaned, and that was all it took; Peter’s cock pulsed and spilled down his throat, and when he’d finished, Peter sank to his knees to kiss Wade, tasting himself on Wade’s tongue. He felt like thanking him, but he didn’t know if that would be weird.

“That was so good,” he said instead, infusing his voice with sincerity. “You were so good.”

Wade answered with a desperate sound and held onto Peter like a lifeline, and Peter picked him up and carried him easily to the bed, deposited him on his back, ripped off his underwear, and returned the favor enthusiastically. He hadn’t given many blowjobs in his life, and he was a little nervous his performance wouldn’t live up to Wade’s expectations, especially given how expertly Wade had just brought him to an earth-shattering climax. The look on Wade’s face when he took as much of Wade’s cock as he could, stroking the base with one hand and holding him down with the other, told him he had nothing to worry about.

In no time at all, Wade’s fingers laced in Peter’s hair and he pulled; Peter gasped and tilted his head back just in time for Wade to come all over his face. He licked a drop of come off his lips and wiped the rest off with the back of his hand. Wade was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, and looking at Peter like he was some sort of miracle. For a long time, neither of them spoke, until Wade finally broke the silence.

“That was something,” he said, sounding awestruck. Peter nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was.”

He curled up next to Wade, pulling the covers over them and kissing next to his mouth. Wade sighed contentedly and looped an arm around Peter; Peter swung a leg over Wade’s and held his free hand, tangling their fingers together. They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, and it was the best night’s sleep Peter could remember having.


End file.
